Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
“And you did run track,” she pointed out.
I saluted her. “Kind of you to remind me of my second-place state trophy.”
“Sucks that second isn’t first, huh?”
I smacked her lightly on the thigh. “You never quit, do you?”
“Admit it.” She leaned in. “You don’t want me to.”
Shit.
All I saw were her light pink lips.
And the fog filling up our side of the Jeep.
Fifty-fifty.
We’d end up together, fighting until death did us part, or we’d damage each other beyond repair.
I jerked away from her and reached for the door. “Keep a lookout for the Bernstein Bear.”
“Berenstain,” she corrected.
“Yeah, okay, time shifter,” I hissed and opened the door slowly, then made a run for it.
The bear didn’t even budge. It just kept scratching the tree as I went to the tent and grabbed my jeans. I even had time to get the keys out.
Hazel lifted her arms in confusion from the back seat. I shrugged as if to say, “Yeah, no clue how we got away with that.”
Grin smug, I was maybe a foot from the Jeep when I heard a crack and looked down.
A branch.
A branch under my foot.
Slowly, I looked over my right shoulder.
Hell was waiting for me there.
With a yell, I grabbed the driver’s side door and jerked it open, then started the Jeep and hit the accelerator with a bear close behind me.
“Ahhhhh!” Hazel screamed as she got thrown across the back seat. “I’m not buckled in.”
“But you are alive.” I took a turn, then another, then went up onto the highway and headed toward the small town of Canon Beach. “You’re alive.”
I was damn near hyperventilating when she crawled into the front seat, buckled up, and turned to me, her brown eyes twinkling. “Naked and Afraid has nothing on us.”
“Well,” I joked, “at least the afraid part. We didn’t have to get naked.”
The air thickened.
Shit.
Again, I did it to myself.
“I guess.” Her voice was quiet. “There are no rules in nature, anyway.”
Vague.
I wanted to ask her what she meant, and then I wanted to analyze and digest every part of the sentence.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel. “We’ll just find a hotel.”
Yes, because that would fix every ounce of sexual tension—forced proximity, a comfy bed, bathrobes, and adrenaline.
Sure.
Oh, the lies we tell ourselves.
Chapter Twelve
“When you’re a hot mess, the best choice is to just own it and jump in with both feet, then succumb to the hotness before you explode.”—Hazel Titus
Hazel
We stopped at the first hotel we could find that was right on the beach, far, far away from the bear.
They had several rooms.
Which made it awkward. Did we pay for two?
I was about to ask for two when August requested a King corner suite, then ordered wine and food.
No complaints.
It was easy to check into the hotel. We used the secret credit card Great-Grandma had gotten for me so that neither of our dads could trace anything—not that either of them really had access, but we didn’t want to take any chances.
Parents had their ways.
We were at a small resort called Salty Peak. It had maybe forty rooms tops and was newer. They even had bikes you could rent, a gorgeous spa, and from what I’d seen, the rooms would be new and modern.
August was quiet on the elevator ride up, and when he tapped the card against the door and opened it, I almost wept.
The suite was at least nine hundred square feet done up in blacks and whites with bold turquoise accent pillows and art. It had a huge balcony to the right, and a small one to the left, with a fireplace in the middle.
The bathroom was huge with its white marble and glass shower, which kind of meant that he’d have to look away unless he wanted to see me naked.
“So…” I turned in a small circle and dropped into one of the chairs when a knock sounded at the door. I moved to get up, but August was already there.
Room service sure was fast.
He thanked the guy and rolled the cart into the room. Cheese, grapes, two bottles of red wine, crackers, and two yummy-looking dips greeted us.
I reached for a cracker. “This is how the trip should have started.”
He grunted. “Next time, we just bring the tent inside the hotel room and say, yes, we camped.”
I almost choked on my cracker. “Next time?”
“Yeah, I figure we need a re-do.” He licked his lips and uncorked the wine, pouring each of us a glass. “Since the parents will never stop until we get along, and since I never really want to get along with you, this might be a yearly thing.”
I actually did choke on my cracker this time, then grabbed my glass of wine and took a few sips. “What do you mean, you don’t want to get along with me? That’s really mean. What did I ever do to you that would make you want to fight with me all the time?”